


Progression

by TelepathJeneral



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: M/M, on the nature of relationships and the transience of romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 13:45:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2654189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TelepathJeneral/pseuds/TelepathJeneral





	Progression

His first time was with a girl, someone older and taller than him even when she stepped out of her high heels, and he went along with it because that was what you did when it was cold and dark outside. Most of the memory was lost, anyway. He woke up the next morning to find himself naked, and his partner already shrugging into a sweater before glancing to him.

“Pretty good, kid. But maybe try not to take so much next time. You were pretty out of it.”

Simon could only nod vaguely, pushing himself upright, and cradled his head in his hands as the comedown hit him. Despite this, he forced himself to find his pants and tug them on, working through the familiar haze that characterized most of his life. The girl moved into the outer edge of his vision, already preparing to leave, and he tried to stand and pursue her even as he found his jacket.

“Tell me your name.”

“You didn’t ask last night.”

“I’m asking now.”

“Rebecca.” She paused, looking to him with large liquid eyes that seemed much older than her nineteen years. “And yours?”

“Simon. I-“

“Don’t thank me. We were lonely.” She waved him off, making her way over a pile of discarded bedframes before disappearing into the shadows. Simon had to take his time to recover, a familiar itch crumbling his half-baked resolve, and struggled to emerge into the newborn dawn as church bells rang.

+

His first time with a boy was much better-both of them were mostly sober and they had an actual bed. Simon could remember Luke’s smile, his easy laugh as they talked about possibilities and dreams and futures at the bar, and when Simon asked for an age Luke simply grinned. Simon bought most of the drinks that night. Luke had made jokes about their biblical names, quoting some passage from Luke, and quipped about turning wine into water. Simon had given up speaking, at one point.

It was then that Luke had gotten antsy, his subtle flirtations and innuendos becoming more aggressive. Simon got the distinct impression that Luke had done this before, many times, and when Luke cornered him in the seedy washroom of the bar, he made it abundantly clear that Simon was not his first.

Simon could hardly complain, however. When they got to the apartment, Luke began smiling again, hands wandering across shirts and skin to hold tight to Simon, and even when Simon nearly gave up and admitted that he hadn’t done this before, Luke had simply held him close and kissed him.

That was nice, Simon realized.

And when the sun rose, waking Simon with the palest of spring sunlight, he also realized that the feeling of Luke’s head on his shoulder, the transfer of body heat in the small space between him and Luke, was a sensation approaching the divine. He would have gladly given up the apartment if it meant having more of _this_. And for a very long time, Simon thought that what he wanted was Luke, and when Luke swore at him and told him to fuck off, Simon thought that that feeling was lost forever.

He went back to familiar haunts. The rush of the high could temporarily mimic that sensation, and when Simon woke up after the stages of dreaming, he could pretend for a moment that Luke was there again.

Luke became Eli. And Eli became Maverick. And Maverick left, one morning, and Simon refused to get rid of his coat, in case he came back.

After that came the darkness.

+

His first time as a Risen was also his first time with Kieren, It did not escape his notice that their nerves were still recovering, the building blocks of neurons and cells still only partially constructed to carry sensation from fingertip to brain. Kieren said nothing, and Simon wondered if Kieren even knew that not all kisses felt like _that_ , and that most (living) couples didn’t have to press so hard for their partner to comment on their gentle touch.

Then again, Simon also had to wonder if Kieren knew that very few kisses were as perfect, or as wonderful, or as breath-taking as the kisses they shared. Perhaps it was just a side effect of Partially Deceased Syndrome. But for the most part, Simon chose to believe it was Kieren himself.

There would be times, especially during the kisses, when Kieren would have to pull away. Simon could sense the hesitation, could read the confusion and fear in Kieren’s face-but he knew he could say nothing. This would be for Kieren to decide. And when Kieren admitted that Simon was his first, then Simon knew it was his place to be patient. To let Kieren set the boundaries. And whenever Kieren had to break off a kiss and apologize, Simon did his best to let him know that it was okay.

Then Kieren began spending the night. And Kieren would initiate more kisses, and more touching, and even though Simon kept telling himself that the nerves were stunted and recovery took months if not years, he enjoyed every minute of it.

Then Kieren began asking questions about buying condoms. And Simon had stopped, and watched him for a long moment, and quietly mentioned that buying condoms, as a PDS sufferer, in Roarton, would probably not go over too well. And, in addition, did Kieren’s parents know?

Despite not being able to blush, Kieren was visibly embarrassed, and tried to brush off the question. The words “I’m not actually eighteen” were used, and Simon replied that Kieren was playing unfair, and Kieren tried to explain that he was just asking a simple question, and why did Simon have to make things so difficult?

Simon gave up, but the next time Kieren came over, Simon made sure to tell him everything he knew about nerves, and nervous responses, and as much information was available about the sexual responses of the bodies of PDS sufferers. Kieren accepted the lecture with some reluctance, but when Simon initiated a kiss at the conclusion of the speech, Kieren proved much more responsive.

And when Simon awoke the next morning, he found that the sun perfectly gave Kieren’s hair the appearance of shimmering silk, and even though there was no body heat to be traded between them, the closeness and intimacy of the moment rivaled any previous memories. The memories weren’t coming back as quickly-and Simon knew that the nerves weren’t quite the same, so it was possible that it was so much different than any previous morning-afters-but Simon could be relatively certain that this moment was better than his nights spent with any other person.

When Kieren awoke, eyelids fluttering in the morning light, Simon simply smiled, and told him to go back to sleep. Their bodies might not need the rest, but Simon wanted to preserve the moment as long as possible. Kieren would understand. He was an artist; he knew exactly what it was to see a moment framed in incandescent light and want it protected. The small smile on Kieren’s face was enough to assure Simon, and he curled around the smaller man to press a kiss to Kieren’s forehead.

He may have been Risen. And he may not have been perfect. But he’d finally found Kieren, and that made everything-it made _anything_ -truly worthwhile.


End file.
